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I just don’t understand how I arrived back here—lost and confused and fucking alone in a city that once again feels as cold as the frost lining its sidewalks.

Me

I think I need my brother.

Ollie

That I can help with. I just moved my flight up. I’ll be there in twelve hours.

I know I give you shit, but you’re kind of okay.

Screenshot taken.

Want to talk about Jack?

I told him I need space because I literally don’t know what to say to him. I’m pissed, I’m hurt, I’m humiliated, I’m sad, and I’m just so fucking confused, Ollie.

I don’t know exactly what happened, but I’m not sure I really need to. You’re in love with him. When you fought with Tyler, you were so unbothered that you forgot to tell me. When it comes to Jack, you’re flying to Ohio, and I’m moving my flight up.

I read his message three times over, every word making complete sense, even in the midst of my meltdown. I know I’m in love with Jack.

Ollie

The question is, are you running from Jack or the fear of getting hurt again?

I’m still wrapping my head around his last question when another comes through.

Ollie

Give it some thought. I’m going to pack and catch my flight. We can talk more when I see you.

“Kendra?What can I get you to eat, honey?”

My stomach growls, but I couldn’t feel less hungry. “I’mgood, thanks,” I shout back at Mom as I look around my childhood bedroom.

Pink walls, pictures of family, and one massive print of my favorite soccer player decorate the space around me. I haven’t been home in a while, and my parents haven’t changed a thing in my room since I moved out before college.

Mom pushes on my door, her face full of concern. “You didn’t eat when you got here last night, and you’re refusing again this morning. You need to keep up your strength.”

I sigh and flop backward onto my bed, and she comes to sit next to me.

“You’ve always been fiercely independent. From the age of three, you were determined to do things most five- and six-year-olds were still struggling with.”

“I don’t like being a burden on anyone,” I say. I place a palm over my eyes as a headache builds behind them.

“What made you come back home this time?”

I peer up at her from behind my hand.

“Would the strong and independent woman lying in front of me like a bit of advice from her older mom?” she asks, picking up a framed picture of us at a local water park one summer.

I nod and reach down to take her hand. She’s absolutely correct in her assessment of my stubborn independence. Though, sometimes, I still need my mother’s words.

She strokes her thumb across the back of my hand. “I never told you this. Maybe because I’ve been wrapped up in your dad for thirty years and I’d all but forgotten him. He didn’t seem relevant anymore, but maybe my hindsight could benefit you right now.”

She sets the frame down carefully. “I once dated a guy similar to Tyler Bennett. His name was Jason Matthews, and he was the hottest boy in high school. Honestly, I was with him for four years, and at one point, we were pretty serious for saying we were still so young. He was from a well-thought-of family with theclassic white picket fence and parents who painted the perfect, serene picture. He was the complete opposite of your dad and his upbringing. As you know, your grandfather wasn’t a kind man.”

I sit up on my elbows but remain silent.